


The Ends

by EryiScrye (SomberSecrets)



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, I know, Nightmares, Post book-canon, who even am i?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:42:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28107216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomberSecrets/pseuds/EryiScrye
Summary: Jaime rides Honour through the trees. They are covered with frost, but they don’t sparkle in the light. No. It is dark in these woods where bodies hang.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 40
Kudos: 105





	The Ends

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Lewispanda for betaing and Nire for cheering me on <3

Jaime rides Honour through the trees. They are covered with frost, but they don’t sparkle in the light. No. It is dark in these woods where bodies hang.

Snow crunches beneath heavy hooves and the grey and red cloaks of Houses’ Frey and Lannister ripple in the wind like falling leaves.

It is quiet.

Too quiet.

Quiet enough that he can hear his heart beating in his chest, hear his blood rushing in his ears.

Out of the corner of his eye he sees it. A flash of blue.

Jaime pulls on Honour’s reins, but his horse resists. He pulls again. They veer off path.

It isn’t blue. It’s blue and rose. Quartered. Fluttering in the wind and Jaime feels his heart constrict.

He bursts through the undergrowth.

And there she hangs.

A red cloak now drapes from her shoulders.

Ruby red. Red as blood. Not fluttering. Dripping.

The sword he gave her is still strapped to her side.

And on the scabbard crudely carved...

_Kingslayer’s Wh--_

Jaime shoots up and gasps for breath. He rolls over, his hand and stump immediately searching. He does not need to go far.

He drapes himself over her warm body. Gathers her up in his arms. Presses kisses to the back of her neck.

A warm summer breeze washes over his sweat laden back.

She snuffles slightly before she slowly turns in his embrace and cups his face, her thumb stroking the crows’ feet and moisture at the corner of his eye, “Oh, Jaime,” she hums sweetly and sleepily, blinking slowly up at him.

He responds by burying his face into the crook of her shoulder, kissing her where the marks are still darkest. Rarely are either of them able to speak immediately after such nightmares.

Her fingers brush through the silver curls of his hair. “I’m here,” she whispers tenderly and holds him close.

“Lady Stoneheart,” he murmurs eventually, when the thumping of his chest has died down a little. Lady Stoneheart who was vanquished and is gone.

She hums and continues to stroke his hair, the tips of her fingers massaging his scalp just where he likes. He knows she knew - they have their tells for what ends come to haunt them - but he needs to tell her anyway.

It’s ridiculous just how many ends there have been.

And yet...

They are still here.

He stops kissing that old scar long enough to reach up and wrap a strand of her hair around his finger. “The older you get, the more your Targaryen ancestry shows,” he croaks, “Are you sure you do not wish to be Queen?”

Brienne huffs and smacks him gently on the shoulder. That had been another near end. Who would have thought that between the two of them, it would be her association with Targaryen’s that would have endangered them most? “I am happy with my isle, Ser. Are you? Even after all these years?”

Jaime rests his forehead against hers. He did not lose her. They are _here_. “Yes,” he says, “And for many, many years more.”

They have made it through the ends of the world together, and for that they get to grow old in much the same way.


End file.
